247
by October Winds
Summary: Team Rocket grunts come in all flavors, from the mindless drones and sleazy scumbags to the hardened veterans and cruel elites. A tale of an exceptional grunt doing his job as best as he can in a situation rapidly deteriorating.
1. Engagement

**#247**

In the gloom beneath the Celadon streets, lurking amidst the maze of sewer tunnels, electrical lines and building foundations, half of which were unused and forgotten, there was a certain space.

This space, a "room" only by generous interpretation, could be accessed through a series of ladders that, by various winding ways, led to the surface at different points. They all funneled to a single hall that fed entrants via a lone, decrepit-looking doorway into the space. On the other side of the space, directly opposite the feed-in doorway, another door was set into the wall. The door was metallic in appearance, clean and crisp in comparison to its surroundings, with a series of lighted keys next to it and a very large, stylized "R" painted across the surface in red.

This was the second secret entrance to the Celadon Rocket Headquarters, R-3, and between the two doors within the space leading from the ladder network to the base stood a solitary warden.

Less "standing" than "lounging".

Of average height and nondescript appearance, the man slouched back against the wall next to the R-3 entrance, features illuminated only by the glow of the keypad near him, gaze seemingly locked on a point near his feet, hands in the pockets of his standard-issue black pants, a standard-issue "Rocket R"-emblazoned hat pushed farther back on his head than was normally allowed. His jacket, also marked proudly with the symbol of the underworld organization, was open, allowing ease of access to his belt and the small spheres locked thereon. One booted foot was planted firmly on the ground, while the other was tilted against the wall, the position leaving his knee bent.

His head lifted, gaze unfocused, as a distant rumble was heard. One hand shifted slightly in his pocket, then withdrew, bearing with it a small object that unfolded into a set of goggles. Bringing out his other hand, which opened from a fist to reveal a small strap within it, he snapped the strap to the goggles and, removing his hat, drew the eyewear on and settled it firmly over his eyes before replacing his hat and straightening it into the standard uniform position.

"Zeta Gamma Theta."

Within his goggles, the view was initially of darkness no longer illuminated even by the dim glow of the keypad; then, with a series of slowly-brightening light flickers, he saw the room around him more clearly, the sludge sliding down the wall to his left from ceiling to floor, the small group of bats roosting near a hole above the door across from him, a rat foraging through some garbage to his right. He saw the bricks of the ground beneath, broken and battered and never repaired, and he saw a small creature appear in his right eye's field of vision.

The creature, comprised of a series of geometric shapes that spun around and seemed to hold little to no relative position compared to the rest of the body, hummed and lettered code appeared in front of the man's vision.

"Initiate a scan of above-ground entrances, beginning at 2SE-4 and working outward from this relative position."

A warble preceded the creature's disappearance from his view, then another warble, almost back-to-back with the first, was followed by its reappearance. More code flowed across the goggles' screen and a corner of the man's mouth twitched ever so slightly before he brought one hand up and touched a nearly-invisible earpiece, the other hand fishing out a pair of gloves from a pocket.

"R-3 Central, this is 2SE Post, stop."

A smooth voice returned almost immediately, "Post, this is Central. How's it hanging, 247? Stop."

"Porygon unit identifies seven police groups," the guard said grimly, "closing around 2SE 1 through 5. They've destroyed the observation units and the undercover guards are in custody." He pulled on his gloves, then zipped up his jacket. "Preparing to engage in combat, stop."

"Roger that," returned the voice, still smooth and unruffled, "will send backup..." There was a pause and the sound, albeit dim, of an explosion could be heard in the room, then, "Backup may be delayed, stop."

"Roger that, Central." The man's mouth twitched again, this time almost in a smile. "Holding my position until forcibly removed, stop."

"Thanks, 247. Central out."

247 tapped his earpiece, then spoke quietly into the room. "Team, prep for battle." As subtle noises echoed faintly between the walls, he brought one arm up and, pulling the sleeve back, flipped a small covered arm-mounted computer open. Tapping a series of keys and getting a single blink in response, he returned his attention to his goggles. "Zeta Gamma Theta."

The porygon reappeared in his field of vision and a single line of code crossed his screen.

"We're being transmatter jammed, force a connection to the servers open and retrieve the rest of the teams marked for 247."

A single line of code, then the porygon vanished and 247 focused his attention back to the door across from him as distant sounds began filtering in: booted feet hitting the ground, claws clicking against the bricks, splashes of murky water being sloshed through. It was still some distance off; shifting, he reached one hand over and tapped a code into the keypad. There was a hissing sound, then the doorway across from him had a metal door slam down from a concealed position; shouts and screams could be heard briefly, then were cut off as the entrance was shut. The traps were working, at least.

Putting his hands back in his pockets, 247 leaned back against the wall and returned to brooding on whatever he'd been thinking about earlier, ignoring the distant sounds, ignoring the foul smells in the room. Long years of experience along with natural inclination kept him calm and relaxed even in the face of what was most likely violent combat with implacable foes followed by incarceration or worse; he would do his best to avert that fate and would accept it if he couldn't. That was all.

Team Rocket expected nothing else from its grunts.

"All posts, this is Central." The smooth voice was unruffled despite the clear sounds of sirens in the background of the transmission. "Security is compromised, hold positions and wait for further orders."

Subvocalising a command, 247 received an update code stream across his goggle screen and the corner of his mouth twitched downward briefly. There was a thunderous boom from the door across from him and he raised his gaze just as an explosion ripped the metal open and sent a massive chunk of shrapnel shrieking through the air and into the wall next to him. Slowly raising his gaze, his relaxed lounge still in full force, he waited for his goggles to adjust as floodlights poured into the room, held by blue-uniformed police officers who were preceded by small orange, black and white dogs that barked savagely at the waiting Rocket.

"On your knees! Hands behind your head! Don't resist or you'll get hurt!"

At their shouted commands, a twitch that might have been a smile was killed at birth, then the grunt opened his mouth.

"Terminate."

There was a shout, screams, then nothing more from the side of the room closest to the sludge-drenched wall to the guard's left; the officers and dogs nearest to it had vanished. Floodlights turned toward the spot they'd been and saw only sizzling, mostly-cauterized and melted remains that, along with the sharp odor of melted flesh and bone, caused one or two of the policemen, less experienced than the others, to vomit. Before the group could recover, there was the sound of snapping and crackling from the opposite side of the room accompanied by a series of arcing bolts of electricity that coursed through several more of the invaders; as they reeled from the sudden attacks and bodies, with black char marks where the lightning had entered and exited them, fell to the ground, the remaining dogs began howling and covering their ears.

"Retreat! Retreat! He's a high-level trainer! Call for backup!"

The words were barely out of their speaker's mouth when a flurry of wings heralded a descent by the bats living above the door, their eyeless faces and gaping maws horrific in the dim, flashing interior of the room as they latched onto various policemen and dogs and began draining their blood. Screams, shouts, continued howling and yipping, all blended with a slowly-intensifying, piercing sound that caused the dogs further torment, preventing them from fighting back in their agony. Above the smaller bats, a set of three massive maws gaped open and, dropping like hawks, the golbats clamped down on a dog each, bearing it up into the air beyond the light of the floods. There were pitiful yipes and then crunches, then liquid fell from the sky, as did small pieces of fur and limbs.

The policemen frantically shoved their way toward the door, then something struck them from behind and hurtled them to the ground; as they desperately scrambled to flee, the "something" grabbed them and dragged them back into the room. Those who turned to see glimpsed a faint azure glow that was visible, albeit dimly, through the goggles on the face of the Rocket, still standing relaxedly near the door he was guarding. He gazed impassively at them.

"You come invading this place I defend, demanding submission to your will, and dare to enter unprepared to face the consequences?"

Terrified screams, scrambling figures leaping for the door. The Rocket raised his hand and gestured. The door they'd entered through twisted like a cloth on the ground and, with a shriek of metal, closed.

"Surrender or die, invaders."

The voice was cold, the threat in the words was like steel pressed to their hearts. The policemen and their remaining dogs, the latter trying desperately to stand despite trembling limbs, shuffled back in terror. To their right was a slowly-bubbling mass of horrific-smelling sludge, to their left was a small brown rat that was alternately sparking with electricity and coughing flame, its massive incisors crushing through bone whenever someone got too close, and the horrible sounds of the bats' meal came from above, while standing before them was a monster in the form of a man who had cut off their escape from what was supposed to be a sure victory-turned-total-defeat without ever shifting from his comfortable position.

A brief, terrifying, eternal moment passed, then the grunt's gaze seemed to shift from them to something above them; turning to see, the policemen gasped as the twisted metal behind them slowly began glowing, then melted. Stepping through the white-hot portal created by the slagged metal, a smirking, brown-haired teenager looked around at the mess in the room and shook his head as a set of claws gripped the still-hot metal.

"What a buncha scrubs, right, Blazer?"

The red-scaled lizard, its tail tipped with flame and embers seeming to reside in its eyes, stepped through and snorted, a tongue of flame emerging with the sound. Looking up, its gaze narrowed and it snarled savagely, loosing a long-lasting tongue of flame that licked at the bats. The flying creatures shrieked and vanished back into the darkness, even the golbats disappearing along with the ringing, piercing sound as bits and pieces of their meals, abandoned in their flight, fell to the ground with sickening thuds and splats. The lizard clamped its jaws shut and looked back down, alternating its gaze from the grunt standing languidly against the wall and the rat chittering to the left. Growling, the lizard began to step toward the rat, but was stopped by its trainer's arm placed before it.

"Hold up, Blazer." A smirk, whose effect was heightened by the calm wariness of the eyes above it, crossed the seasoned-beyond-his-years face. "That's not the biggest danger here."

The grunt smirked as the new trainer pointed at the sludge wall.

"Flamethrower on the wall!"

The charmeleon, in a sign of implicit trust in its trainer, snapped its head to the side and, opening its jaws, released a stream of flames on the wall whose heat could be felt by all around it. The sludge bubbled and sizzled, then, shockingly, shifted, and a massive mouth gaped open, swallowing the flames as they came into contact with it. Flash closed its mouth at a command from his trainer, then the mouth drifted to the ground, where it closed for a moment before the sludge in the area drew together into a massive, bubbling monstrosity that, through the bubbling and sizzling and horrible smell of ancient, rotting organic material and rot, seemed mildly annoyed.

A slow chuckle came from the grunt and the policeman and trainer turned to look at him as he straightened away from the wall, a glow appearing behind his goggles again.

"Terminate."

A burst of energy detonated with him as the center, slamming into the invaders and slamming them against the wall and through the melted doorway; one man shriekd as a twisted piece of metal cut him open before he flew back down the hall they'd come through. The brown-haired teen stayed on his feet amid the psionic maelstrom, albeit with difficulty, and drew a small red-and-white sphere from his belt as his other arm shielded his face from the flying debris kicked up.

"Eggser, resist."

The ball burst with light and a series of small eggs exploded outward, spinning and spiraling, expanding a circle drawn by their paths before contracting it again and sending a surge of energy out from their center that collided with and forced back the grunt's attack, the two forces quivering almost visibly between the two and causing the atmosphere around their point of contention to ripple with energy.

A burst of flame from the side was narrowly repelled by Flash, the brown-furred rat closing its mouth and chittering in annoyance that it had missed the eggs before starting a firefight with the lizard that superheated the air, leaving the scents of overheated air and charred rot in their wake, and barely missed the policemen as they scrambled out of the way. From the other side, the disgusting mass of sludge began oozing toward the group and the brown-haired teen pursed his lips thoughtfully, then pulled another pokéball from his belt.

"Kaiser, drill it."

A humanoid creature that appeared to be a bipedal, brown-and-tan mixture of fox and lizard wielding a single spoon burst out and, with a three-point-landing, raised its spoon and launched a multicolored beam out that cored the sludge monster and splattered pieces of it out in all directions. A rumbling, gurgling, muffled roar came from the muk, accompanied by horrible smells that seemed to mix ancient rotten eggs with long-sludged fecal matter, then the grunt's voice cut through the din.

"Terminate."

Two shadows slammed down from above, one hitting the kadabra and one smashing into one of the eggs. The two pokémon reeled and their attention faltered from their current targets, allowing the latter to press forward, the muk closing in on the kadabra and the grunt sending several tendrils of energy out to try and flank the eggsecute's coverage. The brown-haired trainer stepped back and drew another pokéball.

"You're way better than the others I've met, are you an administrator or somethin'?" Without waiting for a reply, he tossed the pokéball into the air. "Kaiser, give us some light! Skylar, take down whatever's above us!"

The fox-lizard raised its arms, one hand firing another beam of kaleidoscope color and the other hand, holding the spoon above its head, flexed slightly. The spoon shook, then flared into a brilliantly-shining light that illuminated the entire room; 247's goggles adjusted for the brightness almost instantly, but he still felt a little pain from the glare. Above the policemen, a massive, four-winged bat was momentarily visible, then it screeched, blurred, and vanished just as a brown-feathered raptor slashed through where the bat had been. Emitting a piercing cry of frustration, the bird whipped around the upper confines of the room looking for its prey and the Rocket almost-but-not-quite smirked.

"What," the brown-haired trainer called out, "you think you're winning?"

"Eh," came the response, then the grunt tilted his head slightly as if listening to something. Nodding, he whistled shrilly and, bringing both hands up, smashed an incredible level of psionic energy into the group in front of him.

As the two psychic pokémon attempted to resist the sudden onslaught and the brown-haired trainer had to hastily retract his pidgeotto, the sludge monster and rat darted toward the grunt before vanishing into a pair of brilliant lights that faded into black-and-white spheres with the letter "R" printed on them. A shriek heralded the reappearance of the crobat, who also vanished, then the grunt stepped forward, twisted his wrists and sent an incredible level of energy into the whole room that caused the walls to buckle and the ceiling to collapse, separating the invaders from the door they'd been attempting to breach before they could do more than scuttle backwards. As the path forward was blocked, the teen trainer hissed in vexation.

"We had him!" Turning his gaze to eye the terrified policemen, he snorted and then, as the rest of his team but the charmeleon vanished into their spheres, he stalked off with a muttered, "useless."

"Don't be so hard on them, Blue."

Slanting his eyes sideways, the brown-haired trainer didn't slow as he passed the long-haired girl, kneeling beside what appeared to be a freshly-bandaged policeman, looking past him at the shaken and shaking policemen.

"If you'd been there, Green, you'd have the right to tell me what to think about idiots who charged in without planning, ability or the stomach for the fight. Since you weren't, shut up."

"247 shouldn't have been there," came the response as the girl turned to look at him, her eyes freezing him mid-step with their surety as she rose and, with incredible grace, walked through the battered, groaning wounded who'd been injured by the traps to Blue's side. "He's a grunt with the skill, team and technique of an admin, on top of a highly-developed psychic talent." Gesturing at the destroyed room, her expression thoughtful and a little worried, she turned to face Blue. "This doesn't make sense."

Narrowing his eyes, Blue turned his head again and gazed at the room he'd left. "That means something's probably wrong." Blinking as a thought struck him, he slanted his eyes to look at her. "Wait, if you're here, is the imbecile here, too?"

"Don't call him that, and yes, Red's here."

"That's it, then." Blue nodded with almost absolute surety. "That psycho is going after him."

Concern flashed through Green's expression. "Then we need to warn him. C'mon, let's go somewhere our 'gears can reach him."

They turned and hurried toward the nearest ladder upward as the policemen left behind tried to reassemble their shattered force into something resembling a cohesive unit again.

On the other side of the collapse, the door closed shut behind 247 as he ambled into the base's interior, pausing only long enough to trigger the collapse of the hall behind him, sealing the secret entrance as permanently as the original engineers had been able to arrange. As he walked, he listened to the chatter coming in over the command net.

"Central, 1E has full breach in process. Requesting backup, stop."

"1E, this is Central. Hold position. Out."

"Central, this is 1SE Post. Requesting backup, stop."

"1SE, this is Central. Hold position. Out."

"All units, this is Central. All entrances are to trigger defense and sealing mechanisms and move toward the nearest X center. All units not on Entrance duty are to assemble at their designated points and follow orders. Central out."

247 keyed his earpiece. "R-3 Central, this is 2SE Post, stop."

"2SE Post, this is Central, stop." The voice sounded as smooth and unruffled as ever, but 247 heard cursing in the background and smirked to himself before smoothing his expression and speaking.

"Have triggered D-and-S mechanisms. Am en route to X-4. Any orders? Stop."

"Roger, 247, you are to move to point designate R1B4 and perform sweep before moving to X-3, stop."

"Central, 247. On the move, stop."

"Thank you, 247. Central Out."

Almost before his conversation ended, 247's earpiece began buzzing with the grunt private channel. Turning at a hallway and striding with purpose down it, he keyed the piece. "247."

"Wooo-weee, 247," came the snarky voice of 215, "you take off runnin' the instant the bad guys caught up with ya? You already triggered, you crazy sonuvajynx."

"215, 247. Roger that, took off running when I saw them. They had me shaking in my boots." 247's voice was so incredibly dry that it made it plain whether what he was saying had validity or not. Chuckles could be heard.

"215, 247, this is 109. Can the chatter and get back to your duties."

"Yes, _ma'am_ ," came the sarcastic response from 215. "Would you like-"

"109, this is 247, stop."

There was a pause, then the female voice returned, slightly defensive. "247, this is 109, stop."

"109, this is 247. As per Central's command, I'm en route to point designate R14B to perform a sweep, after which I will be moving to X-3, stop."

A longer pause then before, then 109 responded tiredly. "247, this is 109. Roger that, why are you telling me what was told over command net, stop."

"109, this is 247. Are you not in my chain of command, stop."

"247, 109. Negative and you know that, stop."

"109, this is 247." He paused for a moment, then, "I'm on the same page as you now, 109. 247 out."

Turning his earpiece down to avoid listening to the inevitable catcalls and hoots that would come from his remarks, he continued walking past various closed metal doors as a running commentary on how awesome 247 was came on. Keying a private channel, he paged 109, who was a moment in responding.

"What is it now, 247?" Her voice was tired and stressed.

"109, this is 247. 215 will snub you and undercut your authority without end if you let him, and you don't yet have the authority to tell him not to." Keeping his voice calm and matter-of-fact, he continued, "Wait until you're either G-5 and directly over him, or until you reach Administrator or Executive rank, he'll listen then, stop."

There was a moment, then, "247, this is 109. I appreciate the advice, I don't appreciate your earlier attitude, stop."

"109, this is 247. I'll buy you an apology drink later if we get out of here intact, stop."

"247, this is 109. Stop hitting on me or I'll hit you, stop."

"109, 247, A-OK, it's a date, out."

Killing the channel as he turned the corner before the elevator, he was just in time to see the doors opening to reveal an elevator car full of policemen, growlithes and a single, black-haired, red-hatted teen standing with his finger near the control button.


	2. Repositioning

**#247**

247 walked forward without slowing his step or changing his stride, expression baffled as he keyed his earpiece for 109 again and triple-tapped the mic.

"109 here, now what, 247?"

"Negative, Central, nothing of note, moving down the elevator. Patrol out."

"Excuse me?"

As the policemen began to reach for their stun batons and the police dogs began to growl, 247 abruptly swung into the elevator car and nodded to the red-hat kid.

"Hey, how's it going?"

The teen responded almost automatically. "Pretty good, you?"

"Today's pretty crazy, but I guess it's like that for all of us." Nodding at the keypad, 247 asked, "you gonna key it or not?"

Wordlessly, the teen tapped instructions for the lowest level of the building. 247 held one wrist with the other hand and looked at the closed door as if it was any other trip down the elevator. "What do they have you guys doing down in B7? I'm headed there myself, but if you guys're gonna be patrolling there I might ditch and go find some action back upstairs."

"Ummm," the teen said hesitantly, clearly not quick on his mental feet.

"Not very professional of you," growled one of the burlier officers behind 247.

"Hey, if they wanted professional, they'd get an Admin or something down here," 247 returned. "I'm just a grunt, I make noises and look intimidating." Shrugging and glancing back at the officer, grinning conspiratorially, he continued as he turned back to face front, "anyway, if you guys aren't patrolling, you must be here to see the boss for one mission or another."

"247, 109. Central has alerted B7 units to be on alert."

One corner of 247's mouth twitched, barely, as he thanked all his lucky stars by name that 109 was that mentally sharp even with the stress she was undoubtedly under, then he continued calmly, "you guys are in luck, then. With a full lockdown like today, only an escort from the patrolling unit can get you through to see him. Just follow me, I'll get you in to see him, then you can scratch my back and take over my patrol. How's that sound?"

The officers had gradually been relaxing as 247 spoke, slowly becoming convinced that his goggles had malfunctioned and made the officers' uniforms, similar in style to a Rocket uniform, appear black and normal to the oddball in their midst. A voice came back over his earpiece as he chattered away to the police officers.

"247, this is Central. All patrols have been shifted away from B7 hallway leading to the CEO's office, all remaining personnel have their instructions. Trigger is at the third door on the left from the CEO's office. Out."

247 calmly reached up as the elevator slowed and touched his earpiece; the policemen around him tensed noticeably.

"Central, this is 247, have arrived at designated patrol area, beginning sweep now, out."

Shoving his hands into his pockets and slouching in a barely-unprofessional manner, 247 ambled out of the elevator and, momentarily tossing his head in a 'follow me' gesture to the policemen, began moving toward the hall marked, above a list of other high-ranking officer titles, "CEO". As he passed a receptionist's desk, the green-haired woman behind the desk didn't even look up from a very inappropriate magazine, her hand raising in what could barely be considered a gesture toward the hallway before it turned a page.

"All Profits To Rocket," she said in the tone of someone who didn't care in the slightest about her job.

"Hail Giovanni," came 247's response, spoken in the same cheerfully mindless tone he'd used speaking in the elevator as he walked past her without even pausing. The policemen fell in behind him, trying to act like they belonged there, while the red-hatted trainer trotted along beside the grunt, his eyes wide as he tried to look everywhere at once.

"Wooow, this place is huuuuge!" He exclaimed before any of the policement could stop him. 247 nodded and responded as if nothing was odd about a fellow Rocket being impressed by their base.

"Yeah, they really went all-out when they built this place. I hear half of one quarter's profits were spent on it!"

The trainer nodded enthusiastically, then a policeman gently pulled him back before he could say anything else and replaced him in the movement order, a casual look on his face.

"Any idea where everyone else is?"

247 looked around, thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "I mean, there were a whole lot of us stationed here, but I guess with all those policemen upstairs moving down, they're being pulled from anywhere. At least, that's what it sounds like." He tapped his earpiece, then frowned quizzically at the man next to him. "Aren't you keyed into Central?"

The policeman shook his head while a few others tensed again in case of battle. "No, my comms was damaged earlier."

"Ahh, yeah." 247 smiled sympathetically as they moved down the hall toward the distant CEO office. "Something happened in Supply earlier this year, they're still cleaning it up; we need better logistics work. You'd think with the boss right here..."

"You'd think what, 247?"

The group, excepting 247 who continued slowly strolling forward, froze as the door at the end of the hall swung open to reveal an incredibly well-built man in a suit worth more than most of the policemens' yearly salaries combined, holding a lighted cigar in one hand while the other hand was in his pocket. A long, lean, white-furred cat with a golden amulet on its forehead slowly padded out of the room behind him and rubbed against his legs, its shoulder pushing against the hand in his pocket as it purred. The policemen suddenly erupted into activity, hands going to belts for pokeballs while the man in front began yelling.

"Team Rocket Chief Executive Officer Giovanni, you're under arrest! Put your hands-GAH!"

An incredibly powerful force hammered down on all of the policemen as 247, his expression returned to its usual indifference, stopped a few paces away from them and turned, a blue light shining behind his goggle lenses.

"Sorry, sir, for using you as bait, but it seemed the most efficient method of entrapping them."

Giovanni took a slow pull of his cigar as several doors along the hall opened and what seemed to be a flood of black-suited, goggles-wearing Rockets swarmed out and over the policemen, forcibly subduing the officers and, with their own stun batons, were rendered unconscious. "You've always been efficient, 247. You sure you don't want that promotion?"

"Thank you, sir," 247 replied smoothly, the light in his eyes dimming as more of the policemen were bound with their own handcuffs and then stunned asleep, "but regrettably-"

There was an explosion of power from among the swarming Rockets and a dozen of them were flung into the ceiling and walls, falling to the ground and lying still. The red-hatted trainer stood up, his eyes flashed blue and 247 barely had time to counter the wave of psychic energy that hammered at the Rocket forces.

"Giovanni! You'll pay for all the pokémon and trainers you've hurt!"

"Sir, I'd advise completing your evacuation as quickly as possible," 247 spoke in a clipped, strained voice as he fought off the attack, "if they've made it to the elevators they're probably moving through the whole complex as we speak, even if it's only in small groups."

Giovanna smiled slightly and nodded, then turned. Before he left, he said, "Get yourselves out of here as quickly as you can, I need all of you."

"Yes, sir!" Echoed the voices of the Rockets in the room, then the CEO closed his door and 247 focused all his strength on subduing the undisciplined-yet-immensely-powerful psionic attacks being launched by the young trainer.

"Say, kid," he ground out between waves, moving several Rockets bodily out of the area with telekinesis, "you wouldn't happen to have know a brown-haired kid with a charmeleon and an attitude, would you?"

The boy blinked and the attacks momentarily halted. "Yeah, Blue? What about him?"

247 grinned and took his opportunity to attack while he said, "Wanted to know if he'd be a familiar face in the afterlife or if you'll be going alone."

Staggering under the psychic assault, the boy took a moment to figure out what 247 had said, then he exploded with rage-fueled psychic power.

"YOU KILLED BLUE?!"

247 flexed his hands and shattered several of the consecutive waves of psychic power roiling out from the kid, then, as the Rockets had fled the area, reached for the Rocket-Balls at his belt.

"Stand down, 247!"

A new blast of psychic energy flung the young trainer into the wall, then a silver-uniformed man with white hair and blue eyes stepped forward, accompanied by the green-haired, black-and-red uniformed woman who'd been playing as secretary before, her piercing yellow eyes terrifying in the dim light. 247 slowly straightened up and looked at them impassively as the trainer between them half-fell, half-stepped from the crumpled wall he'd been flung into, his hands going to his belt, his expression livid.

"247, 005 and I will be taking this situation over," the man said icily, his gaze locking with 247's and his head tilting arrogantly. "You and the rest of the rabble may leave this area to me; withdraw according to your prearranged orders from Central."

005 glanced over at the man beside her. "004, mind your tongue or I'll remove it myself."

004 sniffed as the young trainer turned to face 247 again, then the Rocket raised a hand and slammed another pulse of power into him that dropped the teen to his knees, blood trickling from his nose. "Silence your prattling, 005, or I'll remind you why I'm ranked above you."

"By one level!" 005 dropped her hand to her belt. "Do you want to have it out here and now?"

004 opened his mouth to respond, then froze as 247 appeared in front of the pair, his hands brushing their throats before gripping their shoulders as a blast of wind kicked up by his sudden movement whipped their clothing around.

"Play professionally or stop playing altogether. The CEO is relying on you." Holding his hands still a moment longer as the two officers gazed back at him partly in fear, partly in astonishment, he then released his grip and jerked his head to the other grunts who'd halted beyond the Executives in the hall and were staring, mesmerized, at the situation. "You heard the Executive! Move it! Move it! Move it!"

As the Rockets, jerked out of their fearful trance, began rushing away from the unconscious policemen toward the elevators, 247 glanced back at the kid staggering back onto his feet, then shrugged and looked impassively at the two officers. "247 is on the move per your orders."

With that, he took off at a jog toward the elevators and began shouting orders to the grunts there, assembling them into lines and packing them into the elevators as the latter made it to the floor. The sounds of battle erupted from behind them as the two officers engaged the teen, then 247 sighed and keyed his mic for a double channel. There was a pause, then, "215 here!"

"109 here, stop."

"215, 109, this is 247. 004 and 005 have engaged the invading forces to cover CEO's withdrawal. Am leading remainder of ambushing unit back upstairs. Before I ask Central, is there anywhere you two think a couple dozen grunts would be handy, stop?"

"215 here," came an immediate response, almost before he was finished speaking, "avoid the elevators, I say again, avoid the elevators!"

"Out of the elevators!" 247 bellowed, telekinetically reinforcing the elevator cars he'd almost finished stuffing full of grunts, men and women packed together like sardines. "215, explain."

"247, 109. Golem and two arcanines in combat, elevator shaft," came the response as grunts swarmed, a little confused, back out of the elevators. "215 and his hypno are trying to limit the damage, but it's getting shakier. Get away from there! Stop."

Nodding, 247 turned and, extending a hand, ripped the doors to the stairs off their hinges. "109, 247, roger, moving up the stairs. What level are you guys, stop?" Raising his voice as he keyed off the mic, he gestured to a group of five grunts and bellowed, "battle above, clear the stairs! Everyone else up as they clear, reinforce when they engage, grunt chiefs take charge and call for backup as needed, clear floor-by-floor to B5, then hold position for me!"

Even as he bellowed this, one ear was tuned to 109's response.

"247, 109. Level B5, engaging a police lieutenant and some random civilian trainers, 006 and 009 are engaging and holding while 215 and I try to contain the damage and 312 evacuates the remaining personnel to X-4…" Her voice trailed off as the sound of an explosion was heard in the background of the call, then the lights dimmed in the room 247 was in. "Central says for all personnel not directly engaged to pull out and withdraw, stop."

"109, 247, roger that. Out."

Keying his mic off, he strode past the formerly-disorganized Rockets being marshalled by their grunt chiefs and ascended the stairs smoothly and calmly, passing a few follow-up four-man groups of grunts as they secured doors and stair landings. Climbing to B5, he encountered a a group of grunts securing the landing, two at the ascending stair case leading up, two at the door and a grunt chief, a pretty young woman squatting near the bannister, chewing on a stick of bubblegum. The latter looked up at him as he approached and tossed a casual salute at him.

"Landing secured, sir, sounds like quite a fight beyond the door."

As he approached, 247 could hear the sounds of roars, barks, snarls, yelps, squeals and shrieks from beyond the closed metal door. Nodding, he strode right up to the door and keyed it open; behind him, the team of grunts straightened in preparation for whatever happened, their eyes going wider with surprise at his move. Before they could do more than that, however, a ball of flame erupted in the doorway and tongues of flame licked outward, startling the group into backing up a step before the flames froze, then dissipated. 247 stepped forward, unconcerned, and said over his shoulder, "secure the entire stairwell for evacuating Rocket personnel, await my return or orders."

Before any response could be made, he was already through the door, which closed after him.

As he strode forward, his hand raised and a wave of telekinetic energy battered against the policemen and their pokémon as they fought with the defending Rockets, sending them slamming against walls, over desks, up toward the high ceiling above and through shelves of glass bottles. A pair of scientists scuttled out from behind the desk they'd been using for concealment as a policeman and his growlithe landed heavily next to them in a spray of glass and unidentifiable liquids. There was a flash of light and a noxious wave of horrible-smelling gases, then acid and disgusting liquids flowed and formed into the engulfing mass of a putrid muk; a gaping maw opened wide and a bubbling growl filled the room with gasping, coughing people as the malodorous funk within its body spilled into the air. 247 raised his voice.

"All Rockets, on me, gear up, regroup and secure as I advance." The Rocket personnel nodded and whoever didn't already have their goggles on began securing them and recalling their battered teams of pokémon. "Fall in behind me, fan out and assist in evacuating non-combatants."

A blast of flame heralded a defiant growlithe and its trainer; the muk bubbled and sizzled furiously as the flames met its horrible body and evaporated some of the disgusting liquids that composed the monster's body. Behind the aggressive pair, two more officers with gray-skinned humanoids sporting ridges on their heads were charging in, then they skidded to a halt, backpedalling as the enraged muk surged and expanded three times his size and then swallowed the two opponents in front of it, the maw closing over them and the body crashing over them like a wave of acid. There was a scream, a sickening howl, then the maw and eyes reappeared, seeming to float into view, a maliciously satisfied gleam in its gaze. A policewoman appeared and whistled shrilly, pulling her two fellow officers away just as a pair of pseudopod-like tentacles slammed into the floor where they'd been standing, a fluttering moth appearing over her shoulder in the air beneath the high ceiling.

247 stepped from behind his muk, apparently unmoved by the horrible smells, and looked at the police officers indifferently. "Retreat or die."

The officers glared back at him, more of them lining up behind the trio facing 247 while the Rockets swarmed behind him. Smiling slightly, an expression that was far less friendly than a smile should normally be, he made a flicking motion with one hand, the other hand in his pocket, and the muk surged forward with a burbling, sizzling sound. Behind it, in the trail of acidic slime left behind, a pair of skeletons could be seen, half-corroded by the horrible metabolism of the creature. The officers backed away, unwilling to retreat, unable to advance in the face of the horror advancing on them; then there was a blinding flash of light and a horrific thunderclap that caused most of the combatants on both sides to throw up their hands and cover their ears. The officers fell to the ground, stunned, many of them and their teams bleeding from the ears; 247 smiled again fearsomely as a red-and-white orb appeared in a spinning, blinding flash that dimmed to reveal a smirking sphere with two eyes and red bottom, white top. A polygonal creature materialized next to 247's head and seemed to shimmer in and out of existence like static on a screen, a series of electronic sounds passing between the two newly-arrived pokémon before their trainer nodded.

"Excellent work, Zeta Gamma Theta." Holding his arm out, pulling the sleeve back to reveal a wrist-mounted miniature computer, he flipped the cover open and tapped a series of commands into it. Six rocketballs flashed at his feet and he scooped them up, attaching them to the harness beneath his jacket before letting the latter fall back down. Zeta Gamma Theta vanished and the electrode hummed next to him, while the muk looked hungrily at the downed officers. 247's expression was almost bored. "Clean up the mess."

With a hungry growl, the sludge monster reached a dripping mass toward the nearest officer, only to jerk back as what appeared to be a psionic ray of light lanced into it, splattering acid around and causing it to gurgle in frustration; glancing from beneath the brim of his hat, 247 watched the brown-haired trainer from before stride forward, his kadabra beside him focusing on the spoon in its hand. Another psybeam lanced out and splattered the muk, causing grunts and officers to scramble away from the flying corrosive material, then a third one met a series of small azure-colored beams that leapt out from 247's extended hand and they detonated in a blast of air. Blue smirked at the Rocket.

"Looks like we meet again, dimnuts!"

As the air rushed past and blew his jacket out, 247, one hand in his pocket, retracted the other hand and drew out a pair of rocketballs, recalling the muk and summoning a heavy-lidded yellow humanoid with a massive nose and a small pendant on a chain dangling from its fist. Without responding to the young trainer, he raised a hand to the sphere next to him.

"Make a path."

The electrode hummed and began spinning again, then the kadabra barely had time to raise a psionic barrier agains the surging blast of air that followed the sonicboom of the electrode as it blasted past the officers again; the shockwave spiraled them out against the walls, ceiling and floor, eardrums shattered, bodies compressed and battered. The young trainer smirked arrogantly at the grunt and looked around at the hall way for a moment before drawing a small pokéball.

"Made it easier for me! C'mon, Rager!"

The high ceiling suddenly seemed terribly near as light erupted from his hand, lancing out in all directions around him; coalescing from the flash was a monster of legend, massive jaws agape in a hungry roar, teeth like massive razors, scales the color of the sea and harder than iron, eyes full of fury and a craving for destruction that never seemed to abate, incredibly long serpentine body coiled protectively around its trainer as its roar shook the room in a blast of sound equalling the sonicboom from earlier. The grunts remaining fled immediately, while those few officers who remained sensible scrambled desperately away, stories of the wrath of the gyarados echoing in their minds.

247 remained still, goggled gaze not shifting from staring at where the young trainer was standing even though there was a massive sea serpent between them. Drawing another rocketball, he dropped it on the ground and a huge, four-armed, ridged-skull humanoid wearing a black spandex wrestler's loin piece. Looking up at the bellowing, wrathful sea monster before it, the four-armed creature opened its own mouth in a war cry. 247, both hands in his pockets, stood with his legs slightly spread to stabilize him, a precaution made even more sensible by the sudden reappearance, with a blast of air, of his electrode, and he looked even less interested than normal, if that was possible, as he watched the monster before him rise as high as the ceiling would let it and inhale preparatory to releasing an attack.


End file.
